The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1887-02-16

ierked his glasses from MS nose anu
glared after him and squealed: "1he
| dickens! my, he didn't speak to 1ne!'
and presently bobbed on down the
street. unconscious that he had not
given the young man chance.
At the office of Bower & Woodman
John Earling was warmly received.
Judge Bower was very hearty with
him indeed. After conversing a mo-
ment he said: II presume your trip re-
lated to carrying out the intention you
once told me of regarding the mystery
of your fathers death?"
Eyes, sir; it was almost entirely for
that"
"Were you successful?'
ENTIRELY so; and yet it remains q
secret.
"Ah, indeed! Well, / have piece
of news for you which is not. Wood
man is dead and has left you his IL
brary and property"
John Earring sprang up, looking in
dazed, curious way at the others face.
"Me3" he said; "what-why did he
| leave them to me?''
The Judge smiled, softly. 1.-THE will
says simply because he is honest and
for other reasons Woodman was
deep, kind of devil-angel."
| John Earling sat down; his hands
trembled; would fortune and misfort-
une ever cease to shock together over
his head? when did he diep" he
faltered.
..m April"
81 wish | had been here; it might
have been prevented"
What prevented"
"His bequeathing me the property"
"Why, don't you want it?"
"No;'' and he shook his head. star
ing mistily at the floor; ''it's not mine;
| never earned it. 1t must 60 to those
who need it,
Judge Bower looked long and in
credu1ously at the young mans averted
face. WELL" he sighed at last, II
guess old Woodman didn't misjudge
you'll"
The young man continued gazing at
the floor; after awhile he looked up.
"1'll keep the library for his sake" he
said. 1.-The other was not earned by
me at all, or much of it fairly by him.
shouldn't like to use it. !"
Judge Bower sighed again and
moved about in his chair.
II don't need it, said John Earring,
half pleadingly; 81 can not in any
manner make out that it is mine as I
conceive of ownership, and as see it,
it really belongs to the people from
| whom it came, and shall surely try
to get it back into their hands, at least
into the hands of those who need it,
The judges heart might have been
broken from the sigh he fetched.
John Earling got up, took off his
coat, and sat down at his desk. Il
want to <go to work." he said, in
mournful tired way. Il will promise
to be social and civil in day or two.
| want to find myself or lose myself, or
something of the kind" with mirth-
less smile, II have about lost my senses
idling SO much"
"Yes, you'd best get to work." said
the Judge, with bitter laugh, '.you
are not far from being as mad as old
Woodman, himself' and he sighed.
John Earnings head! and eloquence!
and property! how they would boom
the firm were he only little harder!
and he sighed again. What an oppor-
tunity! what a chance to take fortune
at the. flood! and he sighed once more.
1t was like John EARRING to get at
once to work; it was the intuitive Amer
lean way of numbing trouble; but he
could not beat back or tie and cast out
the biting abysmal thoughts of Celeste
that crowded into his mind.
The next day he went out to the still
Enclosure east of the town, and, passing
among the oaks and evergreens, came
where the earth had been wounded by
the making of two graves, the darkest
wounds earth ever gets. One was
healing over, the other was fresh. He
could not keep dry eyes OF his heart
from quivering at sight of these. What
flight of recollections went over him!
The two lying at the soundless bottom
of these wounds had loved him; with
all their strangencss, crudity and
faults, had been his best friends. His
feelings were soft, a thing for gratula-
ton, and he gave them honest tears;
he could not give them more; they had
gone beyond him. But when he came
out from the shady sacred place he
stopped and took notebook from
his pocket; the check the old lawyer
gave him was there, and when another
month had gone by a glistening shaft Of
marble lifted its white urn above their
sleeping-place
He came back sorrowfnlly enough
from the graves that day, and, stop
ping, entered the house where the old
lawyer had lived. The house-woman,
by the dead masters instructions, had
kept it waiting for him. 1t shook him
not little to stand alone in that long,
smoky room where the rugged, fiery
old heart that loved him had ceased to
beat. He did not go into the other
rooms, the rooms where Maun had set
his blood to quicker movement Tho
woman's life had not matched his; he
knew it now. Her swaying grace had
passed into a beauteous memory, which
to him was as the swaying boughs Of
trees beside the rythm OF that other
soul, which, like a star out of the back
ward streaming darkness had con-
Verged upon his own and won it.
The next day he saw the will, that
strange, laconic instrument of she old
lawyers making. A streak of caustic
humor ran through it not unlike sour
honey. Judge Bower, despite his
signs at the thought of how little the
legatee would profit from it, smiled at
his old partners dying gfbes. Then
be told John Earring how he had been
with their old friend in his last hour
and of the MESSAGE he had left for him,